Fire and Ice
by tlyxor1
Summary: When blazing passion meets icy calm, there's sure to be some resulting steam. Paul's a hotheaded werewolf and Bella's a beautiful girl. An imprint might just determine whether or not opposites really do attract. New Moon, without the teenaged angst brigade along for the ride. Bella/Paul
1. Chapter 1

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Twilight saga. These characters aren't mine. I just play with them a little. Or a lot.

**Summary:** When blazing passion meets icy calm, there's sure to be some resulting steam. New Moon, without the teenaged angst brigade along for the ride. Paul's a hot headed werewolf and Bella's his opposite. An imprint might just determine whether opposites really do attract. Outrageously, unabashedly Alternative Universe from New Moon onwards. Obviously, non-canon pairings.

**Rating:** M because I say so. Language, mild lemons, mild violence and character death. You've been warned.

**Chapter One: Morpheus**

She's sprawled out on the homemade ramp outside the Black family home. She doesn't want to be here, but her father's insistent that she spend time with Jacob, so here, she sits. Never mind that Jacob doesn't want to be near her and is currently sick as a dog anyway, Charlie is adamant and he always knows when she's lying. No point in trying to convince him that she tried; he wouldn't believe her anyway.

As she sits, bored out of her mind and wondering why on earth her father's so adamant, four figures emerge from the woods. She almost doesn't recognise Embry, but he's got that stupid smile on his face and his walk is unmistakeable. He stands with whom she knows to be Sam Uley, Paul Lahote and Jared Eddington, but she's never met any of them in person. Jacob claims he hates them, because apparently they've corrupted his best friend, but aside from looking like he's overdosed on steroids, Embry looks as stupid as ever. Stupid in a good way, but stupid nonetheless.

She waves half-heartedly and hopes they don't approach her. Charlie's put her in a bad mood and she has no desire to play nice with four overgrown boy-men. Hell; she doesn't want to spend time with Jacob. She wants to be in her room sketching, but we can't all get what we want and, instead, she's stuck on the Black's porch waiting for an appropriate amount of time to pass for her to go home without getting her metaphorical ass handed to her by her own dad.

Lady Luck, unfortunately for Bella, is not on her side. It can be argued that she's never been on Bella's team. After all, encounters with insane vampires, nearly being crushed by an out-of-control van and pouring sour milk into her bowl of cereal that morning isn't what anyone would call lucky, no matter _how_ pretty the vampires are. As a result of her poor luck, Bella watches, dejected, as all four of them approach. Jared and Paul are tussling as boys do behind the other two, Sam and Embry conversing too low for Bella to hear. She's not really interested in the conversation; they four just happen to be the most interesting thing in her line of sight since the grasshopper about half an hour ago.

When they get into her hearing range, Embry greets her with a pleasant, if distant, hello. She's known him for years, but she wouldn't really call him her friend. She's only ever known him as Jacob's friend and has never bothered to try and befriend him herself. As such, she returns the greeting with one equally as distant and returns to staring at the landscape around her. She has no interest in being introduced to Sam, Paul or Jared, but apparently, her disinterest doesn't show, because while Sam pounds a heavy fist on the Black's front door, Embry starts introducing Bella to his buddies.

"Bella, these are friends of mine, Jared Eddington and Paul Lahote. Guys, Bella Swan – Chief Swan's daughter." Of course everyone knows who Chief Swan is, she thinks sourly, but doesn't comment on that. Instead, she nods dully.

"I know. Pleasure to meet you." She holds out a lax hand and Jared shakes it amiably. Paul doesn't shake it at all, but instead of being insulted, she simply drops her hand to her lap and continues staring blankly ahead.

Bella jumps to her feet as Billy opens the front door. Before Sam can start speaking, she asks, "Billy, if Charlie asks, I've spent all this time hanging with Jake. I don't really need the Chief bitching about me being unsocial again, yeah?" He nods, amusement in his eyes and they all watch her as she walks off to her truck. She looks over her shoulder to wave – she _can_ be polite – and meets Paul's eyes. She gives a two finger salute, turns back around and hops into the cab of her truck. She revs the engine, beeps the horn twice and is on her way.

Charlie's not home when she returns and she's relieved. She doesn't need the Spanish Inquisition while she's trying to relax. Charlie's been acting weird. She thinks that her father is under the impression that, because their house is bordered by the forest, whatever's killing the hikers can break into the house and kill her too. His concern is sweet, and she knows full well that what's killing those hikers can very well do that, but she also knows that time spent on the Reservation won't keep the monsters at bay.

She brings out her beloved art journal and opens it to a new page. On it's own accord, Bella's hand starts moving and, slowly, the image of four shirtless, muscled boy-men come to life on her page. When she realises what she's drawing, she's surprised, but nonetheless, continues until the image is done. In the foreground, Paul, Jared and Embry are standing, while in the background, Billy is sitting in his wheelchair, Sam standing beside him and, in the shadow of the doorway, Jake can be seen lurking. She'd only caught a fleeting glimpse of the scene, just as she was leaving, but her memory is photographic and like all her other still lifes, the scene and it's characters are spot on. She likes the contrast between young and old and it quickly becomes one of her favourite pieces. She initials the bottom right hand corner and, slightly above the I and S of her name, she rights a single word: Life.

She flips back on the earlier pages, stopping on one. The image is of Edward, but his expression makes him nearly unrecognisable. It's actually the lack of expression that does that, she observes. She remembers the epiphany she had as she finished this picture. After that one encounter, she realises that Edward was true all along. He really is a monster. So that's what she called the drawing, full of hard lines and heavy strokes.

The face is out of her last memory of Edward, in the woods behind her house. He broke up with her that day and she thought he'd broken her heart for good. But she was only young – she still is - and didn't understand that their relationship, if it can be called such, was never love. She held him up on an undeserving pedestal and he treated her as if she were a child. They were imbalanced and unhealthy and now she can only be relieved that they are over.

Her time with him was a learning curve, one that she will always be grateful for, but she knows it's time for her to move on with her life and let go of the past. Still… she can remember. She'll never forget, in fact. Her mind won't allow it.

The image before that is one of James, Victoria and Laurent. It's the baseball scene, when they introduced themselves and before James set out to make a meal out of Bella. It's titled 'Lost' and she's not sure if she's referring to the three nomadic vampires or the human girl cowering behind Edward.

She sets the art journal down on her study desk and stretches out on her bed. Drawing the four boys and Billy has calmed her, but now she's bored. Soon though, she's drifting off to sleep, to be woken by Charlie. He looks tired and, as she notes that he's dressed in hiking attire, she realises he's been out searching the woods again, looking for what's killing the hunters. Alone.

Her stomach fills with dread and she grips onto her father's hand firmly. She can't bare the thought of losing her father to the monster that she knows is lurking in the forest. "You went hunting in the woods again," she states, ignoring his enquiry about her afternoon supposedly spent with Jacob.

Charlie must see something in her face, because he ignores the fact that she's ignored his question, instead nodding in response to hers. "Yeah, I did. Whatever's out there…"

"Can very clearly kill you," she interrupts, her voice shrill and eyes wide. "Please, dad – _please_ don't go out there again. At least not alone." He opens his mouth to object, but she whips out the big guns before he can. Eyes widening in the best puppy eyed expression she can manage, she whispers, "Please, daddy? I don't want to lose you."

He caves instantly, grudgingly muttering a "Fine, I won't go out there alone," before leaving her room. Her interruption has had the added benefit of making Charlie forget about asking her how her afternoon spent with Jake passed, but her stomach is still clenched with anxiety. She's scared. She hates admitting it, but it's the truth nonetheless.

When the sun starts sinking below the horizon, Bella descends the stairs and enters the kitchen. Aside from art, her favourite pastime is cooking and she falls into the familiar routine of cooking spaghetti Bolognese easily. She can cook this dish with her eyes closed and one hand behind her back, she's sure. She melts butter with the pasta, just how Charlie likes it, and adds just a bit of chilli in the Bolognese sauce. It's his favourite dish after fish fry and pizza and she takes pride in knowing that he enjoys the things she cooks for him.

He devours his first serving and goes in for seconds, devouring that, too. He washes it down with a bottle of beer and, after cleaning up the dishes (it's their deal – Bella cook, Charlie clean), he kicks back in his favourite recliner and settles down to watch a Seahawks game on Fox Sports. He's asleep before the pre-game commentary is over. She's not surprised.

Charlie's been waking up before dawn and, these days, rarely ever comes home before sundown. He's determined to find out what's killing the people in the woods. He feels he's failing to protect the people of Forks by failing to stop the murders from occurring. He's always believed in duty and honour and, as the Chief of Police, he feels it's his duty to keep this town safe. He's succeeded up until this point and he doesn't want to stop now.

She can't tell him that what's killing him won't go down with a tranquiliser gun, though she desperately wants to. She wants to tell him everything, but no – he's passed down his views on duty and honour to his daughter and she wouldn't break the Cullen's' trust like that. Not even with her father, whom, above all, she would trust with her life.

She switches off the television, wakes him and sends him up to his room. She locks up the house to give her some peace of mind and makes her own way upstairs. She showers, uses the toilet, brushes her teeth and hair and cleans her ears. When she enters her bedroom, she dresses in her pyjamas and locks her bedroom window, shutting the blinds after ensuring it's well and properly sealed. She curls up into bed and closes her eyes. And she dreams. She doesn't remember what about, but she wakes up sweaty and wanting and frustratingly wet. She finishes off what her dream has started, cleans her hands, changes her underwear and returns to bed, where Morphius awaits once more, this time, her dreams far sweeter.

**Author's Note:** My attempt to hold onto a pastime I'm growing out of. I've written three and a half chapters – hopefully, I'll manage to finish the story. Drop me a review, if you will. I might send you a sneak peek if you do – no guarantees though.


	2. Chapter 2

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer:** Not owning and, honestly, not really wanting to. Sparkly vampires… really.

**Chapter Two: Pluto**

There comes a time in your life when you realise that death will always be a constant companion. No matter how much you run from it, or no matter how much you prepare for it, death will creep up, surprise you, and take someone you love. One day, you'll be that loved one, snatched away by the icy hands of humanity's only determined fate.

Her grandmother died when she was ten. It was too soon for her to truly grasp the meaning, because all she could understand was that her gran wouldn't be around anymore. She'd been sad then, because she'd miss her gran's cooking and stories and the songs she would sing. Even now, she misses Marie Swan's brownies, her smile. She misses her drawing lessons, giving Bella trade secrets that she herself had been taught. She misses her grandmother and, simply, that is life.

One would think that, spending as long as she had with the undead, she would be prepared for the shocking news that Harry Clearwater has passed away. The truth is, though, that life in death is a completely different ball game. It doesn't fit into the realm of humanity where death happens every day and, simply, it's something that you can never prepare for. Not emotionally, at least.

She knew Harry Clearwater. Of course she did. The man had been one of her father's best friends, so he'd starred in her memories as long as Billy or her father himself. She doesn't know how to feel. Her father needs her. She has to be strong for him when he can't be strong for himself. She wants to cry though, because Harry, more than being her father's friend, had been a friend of hers, as well.

They're at the Clearwater's house. Charlie and Sue are sitting at the kitchen counter, watching Bella prepare a meal without really seeing her. She needs to stay busy, keep her mind off the pain written across her father and his friend's expressions. They tell the whole sorry tale and she doesn't want – doesn't need - to be reminded. She can't forget because her mind won't let her.

She stores the cooled casserole dish, covered in cling wrap, in the fridge and begins on her grandmother's lasagne. The woman left her recipes for Bella and Bella's coveted them ever since. It seems fitting in a way, to be making her grandmother's dishes today. She doesn't know how, but it simply does.

After storing the lasagne in the fridge with the casserole, she brings out cleaning supplies and sets to work. Sue and her kids have just lost a loved one: they do not need to be worrying about things like vacuuming and dirty laundry.

She's by Sue when the dam finally bursts. Charlie's sitting in front of a television, staring at a game he's not really watching, his gaze absent. He's remembering. She thinks it's infinitely worse than the heart wrenching sobs escaping Sue as Bella wraps her arms around the plump woman's shoulders, holding Sue to her and rocking them both side to side.

Sue's like a small child in this instant. She cries and cries and cries and all Bella can do is hold her. She says no words, because there are no words to be said. Instead, when Sue has herself under a relative amount of control once more, Bella hands her a box of tissues she'd purchased for that very purpose, leaves her at the kitchen counter and sets to work cleaning again.

There are dishes being brought in by the bucket load and, soon, their fridge is overrun with food that will last the three remaining Clearwaters ages. People give their condolences and Sue takes them like a trooper, holding strong until the guests leave and it's only Bella, Charlie and herself. Bella doesn't know how she does it, but she's amazed by Sue's strength.

Billy is brought over by Rachael, whom upon hearing about Harry, has driven over from Seattle to be there with and for her family. He wheels himself into the living room, where Sue and Charlie have sequestered themselves, and Rachael joins Bella in the kitchen, quietly informing Bella that Billy's already begun making funeral arrangements for Harry.

It's almost too much to handle and Bella, inhaling deeply, takes a moment to regain her composure. When she has, she returns to kneading the cookie dough she's making, splitting half of the large batch for Rachael to help out. Rachael doesn't say anything about Bella's slip and, instead, they work in silence. It's introspective, both of them rapt up in their respective memories of the dearly departed.

The silence remains until the front door is thrown open, entering the remainder of the Tribal Council, Sam, Jared, Paul, Embry, Jacob, Quil and, lastly, Seth and Leah Clearwater. When Leah catches sight of Rachael, her best friend, the girl bursts into tears and is in Rachael's arms in another second. Rachael goes with her upstairs, the council steps into the living room and everyone else, the boy-men, squeeze around the wooden dining table. They all watch Bella as she clears up her mess in silence, still lost in her own thoughts and hardly paying the eight shirtless boys any notice.

"Bella," Jacob whispers. It's one word, but it breaks her completely. Her shoulders hunch forward and she throws her palm over her mouth, a vain attempt to quiet the sob threatening to escape her. They can all hear it when it comes, loud and clear. It's not Jake who comforts her, but Charlie, who holds her like he'll never let her go. She clings to him, taking in great, gasping breaths to try and gain control of herself once more. It doesn't work, because this emotional tidal wave is too strong to contain. She's known and loved Harry her whole life and now he's gone, never to be seen again.

Her breakdown sets off Seth. She doesn't know it, but he's trembling violently. The other boys in the room are trying to calm him without success. It gains her attention and her and Charlie watch with morbid fascination as Seth – little Seth Clearwater – explodes into a snarling, growling ball of fur the size of a small horse.

Charlie staggers back into the fridge and Bella, whose more or less good with weird, doesn't know what to think. Today's been one rollercoaster after another that she's feeling like it's an up hill battle, only to stay upright.

She doesn't realise she's swaying until warm arms pick her up and set her down in a chair. Her world is spinning and, wearily, she rests her head on the wooden tabletop, closing her eyes as she does so. She's physically and emotionally exhausted after today. She needs to sleep, but she doesn't think she'll be able to manage it – not right now.

The tribal council have entered the kitchen by now. They're trying to explain it to her and Charlie. Bella doesn't know about her father, but their words go in one ear and out the other. She can't learn about the La Push werewolf/shape-shifter/protectors right now. Not today. Not when Harry's just died. Not when Sue still needs her and Charlie, too. They need her right now.

When they've finished explaining, they return to the living room, leaving Charlie, herself and the pack in the dining room/kitchen. The pack sits in silence, fidgeting awkwardly, while Charlie sits and stares at the wall. She knows how he feels; learning that everything you've ever known about fantasy is, well, wrong. Because werewolves and vampires aren't supposed to exist; love at first sight and mating bonds as well.

While he does that, she gets up to bake a cake. She needs to keep her hands and mind busy and, apparently, wolf boys can eat a house and still have room for dessert. Eventually though, she runs out of supplies and so she sits, staring at the wall, not thinking; not doing anything.

"Your father is spending the night here," says a voice she doesn't recognise. She looks up, blinking dumbly, at Paul, who's expression is hard and dark eyes a whirlwind of emotions. He grits out his next words. "I hate to be the messenger, but Sue says that you are welcome to stay here as well. If not, I am supposed to ensure you get home safely."

Bella gets to her feet and begins gathering her things. "I'll return home. You don't have to babysit me."

"Yes, I do. Alpha order." He walks out and she makes her goodbyes. When she exits the house, she's sort of surprised to find Paul leaning against the driver side of her truck. She throws her things into the truck bed and gives over her keys willingly when he asks for them. She's exhausted and in no shape to drive anywhere right now.

When they reach her house, she hops out and grabs her backpack from the bed of her truck. She's halfway up her porch steps when Paul stops her. He's trembling and it makes her nervous. She doesn't show it though. After her breakdown earlier, she's made sure to keep a tight lid on her emotions. "Paul?"

"There's a fresh leech trail around your house; let me go in ahead of you, yeah?"

She shrugs, too tired to argue. He unlocks the door and enters the house. She follows him upstairs and into her room. She scans it, stopping on her pile of art journals. She scans them: they're out of order.

"Someone's gone through my stuff," she says decisively, setting her bag down on her bed. She starts flipping through her sketches. She finds what she's looking for in her most recent one. The one of the baseball game, with James, Victoria and Laurent, the Cullens and herself, titled 'Lost' is gone.

"You might want to check your clothes, too. It's in your laundrey hamper and wardrobe as well."

She startles, having had forgotten about Paul's presence. She sets the journal down on top of the pile of them and does as he suggests. She finds the scarf she'd warn the day before is gone, as are her pyjamas. Other than that, everything is where it should be, the exception being her journals. She tells him as much and he nods his acknowledgement. "Get to bed. I'll keep you safe."

"What?"

He rolls his eyes impatiently. "In case you've forgotten, Swan; I turn into a huge motherfucking wolf."

"Cool it, Lahote. Do what you want." She nods to her school bag, bulging with textbooks. "I have homework to do; nothing interesting here."

He burrows down in her bed after making a phone call to Sam. She tries to focus on her studies, but the expression on her father's face, somehow absent and mournful at the same time, keeps coming to the fore. Finally, frustrated and edgy enough, she brings out her journal, flips to the first blank page she finds and sets to work. When she's done, she calls it 'Remembrance' and returns to her homework. It keeps her busy, from thinking and feeling; from remembering. But eventually though, her homework is done and there is only so much cleaning one could do.

So she showers. She shaves her legs and armpits and trims her pubes. She washes her hair: lather, rinse and repeat. She exfoliates and moisturises, plucks her eyebrows and waxes her upper lip. She brushes her teeth, making sure to floss and gargle and repeat. She cleans her ears and brushes her hair: one hundred strokes, according to Grandma Marie, would get the ultimate shine. Then she braids it as tightly as possible and braids it again when she finds she's missed a few loose strands.

Finally though, she could put sleep off no more. She would think and dream and remember and she would let herself, because she would only ever fall apart by herself. Most of the time, anyway. She doesn't like to show weakness and emotion was weakness so showing emotion was a no go.

Bella dresses in her pyjamas, hangs up her towel and crosses the hallway to enter her bedroom. Paul is still stretched out across her bed, playing a game on his cellphone, wearing no shirt and looking entirely too comfortable in a practical stranger's room. Then again, if his reputation precedes him, than he's probably accustomed to being in the bedroom of strange women.

She crawls into her bed and curls up on her side, facing away from him. Though not by her own will, she finally lets herself go.

-!-

**Author's Note:** I might have lied about the angst thing. Apparently, I can't help myself. I'll try to keep it minimal. Thank you all – so much – for reading, reviewing, favouriting and alerting. Until next time

– T


	3. Chapter 3

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer:** Nope. I take no credit for the horror – ahem, saga – that is Twilight. Sometimes, I wonder why I bother with fan fiction. Then I remember I'm not creative enough to think up my own characters.

**Chapter Three: Arianrhod**

She's in Paul's arms. She doesn't know how she's gotten there, but her head is tucked under his chin and she can feel his heart beat against his chest, under her palm. His warmth engulfs her, seeping into her skin and easing her tensed muscles. He's mumbling about how he doesn't know what to do with crying girls as he holds her close, but she thinks he's got a pretty good idea, holding her like this.

She feels tiny this way, small and defenceless. It would bother her, but she's too exhausted to force up her walls right now. So she lets him hold her until she's completely relaxed and, soon, she's fast asleep, still locked in Paul's arms and entirely too comfortable there.

When she wakes, she's tucked up in bed and Paul is gone. She's not surprised, but can't help the pinch of disappointment anyway. She climbs out of her bedding cocoon and readies for her day. It's mid-morning and she starts her shift at Newton's at noon, finishing at five. In the meantime, she decides to do a proper cleaning of the house.

The shocking loss of Harry is still felt, but in the harsh light of morning, it's easy to remember that life goes on, even after death has paid a visit. It's a bitter pill to swallow – it always is – but she swallows it down and gets on with her day.

Mike is talking about a trip to First Beach that evening, but she's already planned to visit the Clearwaters after her shift, so declines the offer to join he and the others from school.

"A really good friend of the family passed away yesterday," she explains, seeing his downtrodden look, "Things are still fresh, is all."

Mike's expression turns from disappointed to sympathetic. "Jesus, Bella, that's shit." No other words are said. Condolences aren't required, nor wanted. They get on with their work in silence.

When her shift ends, she stops by the Ateara's general store to buy fresh bread and milk. It's a good thing she did, too. The Clearwaters are out of bread and the milk has curdled, so after putting away the staples, she pours the old milk down the drain and chucks out the bottle. She prepares a serving of casserole for everyone in the house, though from whom the casserole was given, Bella doesn't know. There are so many of them, by the time they're all gone, Leah, Sue and Seth will never want to see casserole ever again.

Seth finishes an entire half of the dish and digs right into the cookies made the day before. Leah finishes her quarter of the dish before snatching half the batch of cookies from her brother. It's good to see that they're eating, but Bella notes that Sue's spent more time moving food around her plate than really eating it. Charlie's trying to coax her into eating, with minimal success.

After dinner is cleared away, Bella and Charlie depart. The Clearwaters need to spend time as a family now and, honestly, Bella needs to spend time with her father, too. A death so close to home – especially when it's a father of two teenaged children – has made Bella realise how much she's taken for granted the presence of her parents in her life.

At home, Charlie wraps her up in a hug. She doesn't realise until he does how much she needs the contact. So like the day before, she clings to him as if afraid that if she lets go, death will be taking him away next.

"Love you, Bells," he says gruffly, squeezing her tighter.

"Love you too, dad," she replies and they enter the house, no more words being said.

The funeral is sad, as is most funerals, but the wake following is a joyous occasion; at least for the most part. There is an underlying tone of sadness, because though they are celebrating Harry's life, it cannot be forgotten that there will be no more of his life to be celebrated. No one can forget that Harry Clearwater is dead. The wake gives people closure though; the ability to know that they can remember without being sad, laugh without feeling guilty and cry, not only from sadness, but tears of joy, too.

She sits on the Clearwater's back patio, staring out at the woods beyond their house. It's peaceful here, despite the gathering going on inside, where the pack, the tribal council, friends and family have gathered to say farewell to Harry one last time. She feels like an outsider looking in, because she's neither Quileute nor pack, nor is she family or lifelong friend, as Charlie and Harry had been. She might have known Harry her whole life, but she certainly hasn't known him for all of his. She's all right with that, though. It's been a privilege to know Harry as she has. She wouldn't change it for the world.

Someone sits beside her on the bench swing. Bella's somehow not surprised to find that it is Paul. He seeks her out when she's around. They haven't spoken since the day of Harry's heart attack, but she's learned to recognise his temper when it rises. She's also learned how to get him to cool it before he loses control. His wolf is perpetually close to the surface – more so than anyone else in the pack, the exception being the pups – but when he's phased, his control and skill as a wolf is second to none. Not even Jake, who's inherently brilliant as a wolf, can outmatch Paul.

Bella doesn't say anything. She never does. Instead, she acknowledges his presence with a side glance before, once more, returning to gazing in the direction of the forest. She can't see much of it: the night is dark and the back windows and tiki torches can only provide so much light, but even in the darkness, she can see – feel – the forest's foreboding, ominous presence.

He doesn't speak either. She wonders why, then, he bothers seeking her out. Her presence isn't very entertaining, after all. Then again, maybe he just likes the quiet. She'd like the quiet, too, if she had to share a mind with up to seven other people.

The silence is comfortable. She feels no inclination to break it. She never does, which is odd. Paul is a stranger, after all; she shouldn't feel so comfortable with him. Then again, comforting the emotional wreck that was Bella of a few nights ago makes him less of a stranger. Perhaps that is the reason of her ease around him: the knowledge that he has seen her at her lowest and still chooses to seek her out. Maybe it's something else entirely.

His trembling informs her that there is something wrong. He's angry, but she doesn't know why – they've been out here for at least ten minutes and nothing has been said or done. "Why don't you talk to me?"

The question surprises her and she blinks dumbly as a result. It's a valid question, but she hasn't honestly expected him to want her speaking with him, so she hadn't bothered. There's also the fact that she has nothing of importance to tell him.

"I have nothing to say, Paul. I don't like small talk, so I choose not to speak at all. Surely you've seen that in Jacob's mind?" She says this calmly, if a little confused, as she wraps two of her hands around one of his larger ones. It feels like an intimate gesture in the dark, as if it should only be reserved for lovers and the privacy of closed doors. His trembling settles instantly and he inhales deeply. She wonders what he smells. She doesn't ask. The question is a weird one, but it feels almost personal; as if asking for what one smelt when scenting ambrosia.

"No. He spends most of his time bitching about being a wolf. I try to block him out."

"You don't like it?" She asks, but decides that she'd probably hate it, too.

"For me, it's more the side effects of being a wolf," Paul sighs, "I don't like my choices taken away from me." He's fiddling with her hands and she wants to know what he sees when he looks at them. She doesn't ask – she never really does.

"Choices?" She repeats, questioning. "What choices?"

He barks out a bitter laugh. "For one, we can never leave Quileute land. None of us, excepting Jake, Quil and Seth, were planning on sticking around."

What does one say to that – to the admission that he can't leave a place he clearly doesn't want to stay in? It would become something of a prison, wouldn't it?

Instead of trying to think up something to say, she squeezes his hands, both of which are now balled into fists so tight his knuckles have gone white. He's not trembling, at least.

They're silent for a while longer, but he begins talking – rambling, even – and she doesn't know what to make of what he's saying. It doesn't make sense – not to her. Not right now. But as he speaks, things slowly fall into place.

"Before Sam phased, him and Leah were dating – seriously dating. When he disappeared over the summer – an entire month – she took it rough. He came back – obviously – but he wasn't the same. The worst thing, I think, was that he couldn't tell her about it." He goes on to tell her about how that began the problems in their relationship: that he was out at all hours but couldn't tell her why. Paul tells her how, when Emily stopped by to visit Leah, Sam's entire world shifted. He'd found his soulmate, his imprint, in Emily Young: his girlfriend's cousin. It can't be fought – not really – and in the end, Sam's secrecy hurt all three of them. He lost control of the wolf in trying to fight the pull, Emily got scarred and, eventually, Leah got her heart broken.

He tells her all he knows about imprinting: it's undeniable, it's fate and the reasoning behind it has been argued for generations. It's almost like love at first sight, but from what he's seen in Sam, Jared and Quil's minds, it's as if the imprint is the reason for their existance.

Once again, they're silent afterwards. She's contemplating the story and Paul's staring out in the woods, seeing far more than Bella can.

"Have you imprinted?" She asks finally. She's deathly curious to know.

He nods tersely. "I have." His face in the yellow light is expressionless. She doesn't know what to make of it. For a moment, she catches a glimpse of indecision on his tanned face, but it seems he's finally chosen what to do, because he speaks again. What he says, however, is certainly surprising. "I imprinted on you, Swan."

-!- -#-

Arianrhod: (Celtic) Goddess of fertility, rebirth and the weaving of cosmic time and fate.

**Author's Note:** I hope you enjoyed. Drop me a review, if you please – they're appreciated.

Cheers -T


	4. Chapter 4

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer:** I own a kindle and I own an iPhone. I don't own Twilight.

**Chapter Four: Ra**

She doesn't know what to think, let alone what to say. His words are certainly a shock to the system. "Oh… um… wow." She hasn't been so lost for words in months: Paul Lahote has rendered her speechless. It would be an amusing sight if anyone saw it: Bella Swan, generally so composed, very much out of her element. She's good with weird – she dated a vampire, after all – but this is far out of her comfort zone. Being the centre of one's universe? She doesn't like being the centre of attention, let alone the idea that someone's entire life now revolves around her.

"So what do you want me to do then?" She asks. She needs to talk to Emily or Kim about this: she has no idea what's expected of her.

Paul touches his hand to her knee hesitantly. She didn't realise it, but upon Paul's revelation, she had retracted her hands from on top of his. They now rest in her lap and she fumbles with her fingers, anxious. She doesn't want to fail Paul. If he needs her, than she will be there: at least she's certain of that.

"Whatever you want to do," he replies, "I'm whatever you want – need – me to be: friend, brother, lover, keeper… anything. Everything."

She doesn't want, nor need a brother. She's perfectly fine being an only child, thank you very much. He's a bit too much of a stranger to take on as a lover, but she could always use more friends. She says as much and he nods his understanding.

"We'll start off being friends and work our way from there, then," Paul says decisively, only for the two of them to fall into an awkward silence. She laughs first, because she reckons that they're friendship is set for a pretty good start. He joins her. Laughing, after all the grief of the last few days, feels freeing.

When her laughter fades, she stares up at the sky above, where the moon and stars shine brightly in a clear sky. The wake has quietened down considerably and it's peaceful between her and Paul. She decides she likes it.

"I can't believe he's dead," she whispers. Her voice seems loud in the quiet air and she winces, looking around. She meets Paul's eyes, sad and understanding, dark grey and so intense, she has to look away. Her own eyes burn with the sting of tears and she blinks rapidly. She's cried enough and she's already promised herself not to break down in front of anyone else. But Paul wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his lap. He presses the back of her head with his hand, until her head is resting on his shoulder. There, she falls apart. She's silent this time, but sometimes, it's the silence that hurts the most.

When she's settled down, she stares up at the sky again. Clouds have rolled in since her crying jag and she can feel the promise of rain in the air. Paul's scent of musk and man and woods blends in with the surrounding smell of freshly mowed grass and impending rainfall. She breathes him in. He eases her sadness and, in his arms, she can say goodbye.

When she does, it feels as if a weight is lifted off her chest. She can breathe easier, but she didn't even realise that breathing was a challenge beforehand. Nonetheless, she feels supremely better and she smiles. It feels like the first real smile she's had in days.

An hour passes and, reluctantly, she gets to her feet. She straightens her dress, a flowy black number that clings to her curves and falls to her knees. She's borrowed a pair of wedge, peep toe heels from Jessica and her feet are killing her. Paul gazes at her in wonder and she feels beautiful in a way she never has before. She has to leave though, so she reluctantly turns and makes her way for the glass sliding door. She can feel Paul's gaze on her back, but she doesn't turn around. She knows that, if she does, she'll turn back around and return to him and his warm, protective embrace.

Inside the Clearwater's house, she collects her handbag from the kitchen and seeks out Charlie in the living room. He and Billy are sitting in silence, the same look in their eyes that Bella had seen in Charlie's, that first day. He's sitting in the same place as he had been last time and it's eerie because, for a moment, she's struck by a feeling of déjà vu that nearly sends her toppling into her father's lap. It passes quickly though and she regains her equilibrium before any embarrassing situations occur. She touches her father's shoulder gently, as not to startle him, but despite her efforts, he jolts forward in surprise and gasps for breath.

"Jesus Bella," he breathes, "Don't do that."

"Sorry," she says, sheepish and, for a moment, stands awkwardly by the couch her father is seated on. "I'm going to head off now," she finally says, "Do you want to come with me, or will you stick around for a while?"

"Better get home," he says gruffly and rises to his feet. He bids farewell to Billy and she does the same. Slowly, they make it out of the house and to the driveway. He lifts himself into the passenger seat of her truck and she into the driver side, where she ignites the engine and begins the drive home.

At their house, she pulls into the driveway and makes her way to the front door. She doesn't know when she's begun calling it hers, but it feels good. She's never really had a home before, so knowing this one will always be here feels comforting in a way she can't really explain.

She makes her way into her bedroom and reaches, without thought, for her journal. She picks up a lead pencil, opens to the first blank page she finds and she draws. The light casts a yellow glow upon her room, the shadows long and the house silent. She can't hear Charlie's snoring, so she knows full well that he is still awake. She can't blame him: he's just lost one of his best friends – she couldn't even _begin_ to imagine how he's feeling right now.

She's spent hours on her drawing and, even when she's done, the house is still silent. Charlie's still awake; remembering. She wonders if he can stop it – the memories – and if so, would he want to? His memory isn't like hers: eventually, Harry's face would fade from Charlie's memory, becoming just a faceless man who had once been such a treasured friend. But Bella would remember: she would never forget.

The drawing is of Harry. He sits with Billy and Charlie, but it is obvious that he is the main focus of the sketch. He's laughing, a beer can in hand and a foot kicked up to rest on one of the wheels of Billy's chair. It's a familiar scene; one she's witnessed more times than she could count. Except it's not, because rather than the usual smiling faces of Billy and Charlie, their faces are drawn, as they had been at the wake. She titles it 'Spector' closes her journal and crawls under her covers.

-!- -#-

The following morning, she dresses quickly and makes her way over to La Push. After checking to make sure Sue is all right – and subsequently being chased out of the house by the woman, who is insistent that Bella has helped enough – she makes her way to First Beach.

She sits on a washed up piece of driftwood. The water is calm today and, for once, the sun is out. The smell of the ocean makes her smile as a feeling of peace and contentment surrounds her. She remembers loving the summers spent in California, the beaches scorching, bleaching her hair and burning her skin. Here, the air is crisp, the autumn chill nipping at her pale skin. It's a glorious feeling; it makes her feel alive.

She's brought out of her trance when Jacob takes the empty place beside her. He straddles the log so that he faces her side, but she doesn't turn around. In her periphery, she can see that his face is set; nothing like the bright, happy smiles she's come to associate with Jake. Then again, he's nothing like the bright, happy boy that she once knew. He's almost like a stranger wearing the face of her childhood, but accompanied by hard lines and sharp angles and solid muscle. Then there are those moments, fleeting now, where she's reminded that, yes, this is Jacob Black, but those moments go as quick as they come and she's reminded, once more, that it's time for them – all of them – to grow up.

She exhales, her gaze on the horizon and her toes curled in the pebbly sand. "Hi, Jacob." It feels wrong to call him Jake because – really - he's no longer the kid she's known for forever. He's a man now – or damn well close to it – and 'Jake' seems out of place when associated with this tank of a boy-man-wolf, this serious, angry replica of her sun, her solace.

"Isabella." The words aren't angry or criticising; they just are. She can't identify the meaning behind it and she doesn't try to. When he is ready, he will talk and, like always, she will listen. She always does.

"Is this what you want?"

She doesn't know what he's referring to, whether it's being involved in the supernatural world, or with Paul or something else entirely. She's pretty sure she doesn't want to know. She does know, though, that she wants to give a friendship between her and Paul a go. She's seen fragments of his fabled temper and she wants to see Mt. Lahote erupt. She's certain it will be nothing short of explosive. Also, he makes her feel like the only girl in the world, or maybe the only person that matters to him. She mightn't like to conform to social norms, but she has to admit, every girl likes feeling special.

"Yeah, I want this."

He laughs bitterly. As most things are with Jacob these days, the sound is unfamiliar. She turns to face him, a questioning arch to an eyebrow and expectation in her eyes. She wants to know what's crawled up his ass and died there and she wants to know why he wants her to feel whatever it is, too.

"I never had a chance, did I?"

Ah. Right. His not-so-little crush on her – the one that should have faded eons ago but, apparently, she was to supernatural creatures what shit was to flies. He looks vulnerable in this instant and it makes her heart ache. In his eyes, she can see the boy that was her sunshine, her solace and, of course, she doesn't want to hurt that boy. It's easy to forget that he's only sixteen, younger than her and she realises now that she will be his first heartbreak. It breaks her own heart a little, because it's utterly gut wrenching to know she's going to hurt her best friend in that way. She knows it's something she has to do though, so she braces herself and hopes for the best.

"You're like a brother to me, Jacob. You always have been." She doesn't look him in the eyes as he says it because she doesn't think she'd be able to watch his heart break. "But I've never felt anything more. Sometimes I wish I did because you're so amazing, but I just… don't." Her words trail off into a tension filled silence. Her heart is thudding uncomfortably in her chest, obscenely loud in the space between them.

When Jacob moves, she wants to cry. He doesn't wrap an arm around her – or even tell her it's okay. A part of her had hoped he would. Instead, he stands up and walks away. Her heart breaks a little more.

-!- -#-

**Author's Note:** The response to this story is overwhelming. Thank you – so very much. I hope you enjoyed – T.


	5. Chapter 5

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Twilight universe. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Five: Juno**

She's still sitting on the driftwood log an hour later. Her tears have dried, her cheeks flushed with cold and crying. It's here where Paul finds her, sitting down in the place Jake had vacated. She manages a weak smile, but her heart isn't really in it. It shows.

"Jake will get over it, Swan," Paul says, definitive. She wants to believe him and, in fact, part of her does. The part of her that has just lost her best friend, however,, is still devastated. She's hurt the boy who's friendship, up until now, has been the most innocent thing she's known. God, she wants to know when her life got so complicated.

"Yeah," she says. There is nothing else to say. Not really. They're not tragic lovers: Jacob won't go and kill himself in the name of love. He's not irrational – he's not stupid. "Yeah. I know. It still sucks though."

Paul bumps the side of her knee with his own. "It had to happen some time, you know. If it wasn't you, it'd be someone else. At least he knows you'll still be his friend when he gets over you."

This time, her smile is a little more genuine. "Yeah, best friends. Always."

Paul gets to his feet and looks to her expectantly. "Do you want to come with me to Sam and Emily's? She's making brownies…"

She gets to her feet right away. Brownies sound like a pretty great pick me up right about now. Bella doesn't know Emily, but the woman's practically notorious around La Push and Bella has to admit, she's kind of curious. She follows him through the woods, eyes taking in every shade of brown and green, every smell, every feel. It's incredible and, of course, she wonders why the hell she doesn't spend more time in the woods.

They break through the tree line into the backyard of a small, cosy little cottage. It has ivy crawling up lattices on the side of the house and herbs growing in flowerpots on the windowsill. It's cute and comfortable looking and, instantly, Bella's fallen in love with the place.

Paul doesn't knock on the backdoor. Instead, he strolls right in as if he owns the place. At once, she's appalled and in awe and awkward because there was no way she would have the nerve to do that. Ever.

She doesn't show any of that though. Instead, she follows Paul into the kitchen and Paul lifts her into his lap without a thought. He sets a brownie down in front of her and she takes a bite. It's like her own little taste of heaven. She's decided that this Emily, whoever she is, is the mother of all that is good and wonderful in this world. Short of her grandmother's cheesecake, she's never eaten something so sublime in her life.

"Good stuff, right?" The question comes from Quil, seated across from her and Paul. He's spoken around a gargantuan mouthful of brownie and it's a wonder that she's able to decipher it. Nevertheless, she has and she nods in response. In all honesty, she's completely lost for words. This brownie is truly something heavenly.

"I'm glad you like it, Bella."

She turns at the woman's voice, to see a petite woman of native descent, a beautiful face and three angry scars marring the left side of her face. She's beautiful – hauntingly so – and it makes Bella want to cry. This is Emily, she knows and so she smiles.

"I'm willing to turn lesbian for you, if you'll cook for me the rest of my life," she announces. It makes the three wolves present – Quil, Paul and Jared – choke on the food they're devouring. It makes Emily laugh so hard she starts crying and it makes Bella's lingering sadness fade away, to the back of her mind. There, she knows it will stay until she's alone once more.

"That's flattering and all," Emily says, still snickering, "But I think it's best if we both stick with our wolves, yeah?"

Bella smiles and shrugs nonchalantly. It's weird, referring to Paul as 'hers' but none of them look fazed by the term and so she doesn't bother bringing it up. "Shame."

She's pretty sure she hears something like 'damn right it is' from Quil, but she pretends she hasn't. It's flattering and embarrassing all at once. It takes supreme effort to not turn and acknowledge the words. She knows that, if she does, she'll turn as red as a coke can and, well, that's simply unflattering on anyone – particularly her.

Paul's eaten three more brownies by the time she's finished her first. She doesn't know where it goes because the guy's weight is all muscle, but damn, she's in awe. She thought the boys at school ate a lot. Boy was she wrong.

When the boys make their way into the living room, Bella takes Paul's vacated seat and Emily sits down across from her. The older girl has set down a mug of tea in front of Bella, a small pitcher of milk and a bowl of sugar.

"So what do you think of Paul, Bella?"

Bella sighs mentally. She's never really become accustomed to girl talk and, well, in all honesty, she's not really sure she's looking forward to experiencing more of it. It's always seemed so inane to her, talking about boys and clothes and nothing with any real significance.

"I don't really know him," she says finally. It's the truth, after all. "He's…" she doesn't even know. He's held her when she cried and cheered her up when she was in a funk. He's protected her when he didn't have to, talked with her when it was all she needed. She doesn't know how to describe Paul because friend doesn't seem good enough. Not for Paul. "He… just is."

"Just is," Emily echoes, the right side of her mouth pulled into a smile. The left remains the same. It's disconcerting, but Bella doesn't look away: she's tougher than that. "Paul's a good guy – don't forget that. He might act like… well… an asshole sometimes, but he is a genuinely good guy."

She's pretty sure she's beginning to realise that, so she nods and sips her tea.

They're quiet until more people stroll through the back door. Sam makes a beeline for Emily. He kisses each of her scars and then her lips. Bella's pretty sure she's never seen love like it.

Behind Sam strolls Jacob. He doesn't meet Bella's eyes. Instead, he walks straight into the living room. Bella's good mood evaporates instantly. She stares down at her mug and traces the rim of her mug. Her insides are a mess of guilt and sadness and it's suddenly suffocating in the room.

There's a scuffle in the next room and, through her pity party, she listens to Paul's angry declaration. "That's for making my imprint cry, you asshole." Paul comes through the doorway, his face stormy and hands trembling. He lifts Bella up and holds her close. Instantly, she feels better. She doesn't know when Paul became her comforter, but it's nice having the emotional contact with him. For so long, she's been alone that this feeling, this understanding that this man will never leave her, is glorious.

Later, as they are leaving, Emily wraps Bella up in a hug. It's surprising, because they've only just met, but Bella hugs this alpha female right back. Emily's hugs are as comforting as Paul's and Bella's pretty sure she's going to love this new pack dynamic. They're a family: brothers and sisters. It's something she's never really known. With the Cullens, she was always kept at arms length. With her own family – well – to begin with, there isn't much of one to speak of – a family, that is. She loves her parents, no question, but an emotional connection is hard.

Paul walks with Bella back to her truck. He hoists himself into the passenger seat as Bella climbs into the driver side. She likes that Paul doesn't feel the need to help her with everything. It's nice to feel independent – even if it's just with the little things.

They don't talk on the way to her house. She appreciates Paul's quiet. He doesn't feel the need to fill silence, as Jacob and Edward had to. They sit in a comfortable quiet because, like Paul, Bella doesn't feel the need to fill the silence between them.

They arrive at her house and Paul follows Bella inside. Charlie's sitting in his usual recliner. Billy's in his chair beside Charlie. There's a game on the TV and three cans of beer on the table, except only two are open.

At once, memories of Harry come to the fore and she turns away. She makes her way upstairs, into her bedroom and onto her bed. Paul follows her, closing her bedroom door behind him. He sits beside her and they hold hands. He's quiet comfort and peace and everything she'll ever need – everything she'll ever want.

Their peace is broken by a piercing howl from the woods. It sounds like it's right by her house. It's so loud, in fact, that it makes her start in surprise. Paul, on the other hand, is on his feet right away and by her window. It's opened and he sticks his head out. "What?" He calls. There's quiet, words that Bella's human ears can't pick up. "Alright." He turns back to face her. "I have to go. We have a trail for a leach we've been chasing for months now. Will you be all right?"

She nods and, from the window, watches his form tread easily across the damp grass of her yard. He disappears into the tree line but still, Bella watches. She's still watching hours later when Paul's form appears from the tree line. He's in his usual cut offs and nothing else and, for a moment, she admires his form. She can't help herself: she's a teenaged girl and he's an attractive guy, after all.

She moves out of the way and, of course, he leaps through the window without a sound, landing on the floor on silent, steady feet. She envies his grace, but she's long since passed wanting the same thing. She's happy with her mortal flaws and all that which goes with it.

"Did you catch the vampire?"

"No," he replies, "She's an evasive bitch."

A conversation, months ago now, comes to mind, Edward telling her of his thoughts concerning Victoria. "She's tricky – I don't trust that she's simply cut her losses."

Bella gasps and her head whirls to face Paul. "This vampire, what does she look like?"

Paul gave her a hard look. "Red hair, red eyes, the demon incarnate."

Bella's heart is pounding and, of course, Paul can hear it. He's worried and it shows on his handsome face. "Bella, do you know her?"

She nods jerkily. "Y-yeah. She… her mate… he nearly killed me."

Paul's face has paled. She didn't know that was even possible, but there you go. "Explain, please." He's trembling and so she talks. She tells him everything and, when she's done, Paul's just about to lose control.

"Go," she whispers, "Come back when you've got control. He's out of her sight right away. She wonders if he's going to come back."

-!- -#-

**Author's Note:** I have no intention of making this a long story. Fifteen chapters, at most. Thanks so much for your reviews, follows, favourites and simply for just reading. It's so nice to know you're all enjoying it.

Some of your pennames are seriously interesting. I'd really like to know the story behind them, if you lot are willing to share. That said, here's the story of mine:

When I was ten, my brother was fifteen. He had a computer in his room and I thought it was just the coolest thing to use a computer in a bedroom. Granted, it wasn't my computer or even my room, but using the computer made me feel awesome anyway. As such, I learned his password and used it to hack into his PC whenever he wasn't home. Tlyxor1 was the password.


	6. Chapter 6

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own.

**Chapter Six: Atlas **

Paul does return, but he brings Sam along with him. She does her best to try and hide her relief, but she's pretty sure Paul knows exactly how she feels, because he pulls her up from where she's lying, sets her in his lap and holds her so close, it's almost as if they are one entity. She doesn't complain. She says they are only friends, but this _relationship_ between them is nothing of the sort. She's only known him for a few days, but already, she needs him like she needs her father or mother. It's the influence of the imprint, no doubt, but it doesn't change the fact that Paul's presence has become a necessity in her life.

She leans back – further into Paul – and rests her head against his shoulder. She stares at Sam through half lidded eyes, relaxed by the heat encompassing her, radiating from the sort-of- human space heater that is Paul Lahote.

Sam's face is solemn, his eyes hard. She's pretty sure she can see a flicker of concern in his dark eyes, but she's not so sure. Sam is the alpha and only twenty two. Despite only being a year older than Paul, Jared and Leah, he seems so much older, so much wiser than anyone else in the pack. It's intimidating, the responsibility and power Sam yields, but everyone in the pack, barring Leah, respects him so much. Bella can understand why, of course: Sam does his best to keep everyone in the pack safe and happy because their job, all of their duty, isn't an easy one. None of them asked for this responsibility. Instead, it's been forced upon them. As a result, they have all had to grow up so fast – too fast.

"Bella," Sam greets. He sits down in the swivel chair tucked under her study table. He eyes the pile of journals on the table before turning his gaze upon her. He dwarfs the chair and it's kind of funny, but Bella doesn't laugh.

She looks at him with expectation in her eyes. She doesn't say anything – she rarely ever does. Instead, she waits for Sam to speak. She doesn't have to wait long.

"This vampire; what do you know about her?"

"You've seen what I told Paul?" Bella asks. She doesn't want to tell him what he already knows. It's a waste of both his and her time. Neither of them have enough of it in this world to waste.

Sam nods silently, arms crossed over his chest, legs stretched out in front of him and feet braced flat on the floor. His legs are so long – Paul's too – and she feels like a mouse in the presence of giants.

"Well, I suppose what you need to know is that some vampires have gifts, special abilities not shared with anyone else of their kind. Carlisle Cullen's theory is that it is an enhanced trait carried over from their human lives." She goes on to tell them of Alice, Edward and Jasper's gifts and ignores the niggling feeling of betrayal she's feeling as she does so. She no longer has any loyalty to the Cullens. Her place is with the werewolves of La Push, right beside Paul. She's going to help any way she can. If that means giving up personal information of the Cullens', than so be it. "Edward believed that Victoria, the vampire your pack is currently hunting, has the gift of evasion." She clears her throat. She rarely ever talks so much. "I can't really tell you much else. That's all I know."

Sam nods and rises from his seat. It creaks as he does so and she wonders if it's about to collapse beneath the alpha's weight. Miraculously though, the chair holds and Sam is standing again. "Thank you for telling me that, Bella." He looks to Paul. "I'm calling a pack meeting for this evening. Nightfall, the usual place – be there."

Paul nods his response and Sam is gone, out the open window and into the surrounding forestry.

"I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk in one sitting," Paul declares. When she looks at him, he's wearing a teasing smile on his face, but it can't really hide the emotions in his eyes. Paul is worried, protective, angry and determined all at once. In his eyes, Bella sees what she already knows: Victoria will die.

"I think that's the most I've ever talked period," Bella admits. Her throat is hoarse and she needs a drink, but she can't muster up the effort required to remove herself from Paul's embrace.

Paul chuckles and gets to his feet. He's still holding Bella and, like this, she feels so high off the ground. In Paul's arms, she feels like she's flying. She doesn't want this feeling to ever go away.

Her father and Billy are still in the living room. They're talking now, reminiscing about times that will no longer be, memories that, to her, are as crystal clear in her mind as though they'd occurred that morning. She thinks that this nostalgia, these bittersweet memories are far better than the absent looks in their eyes from before.

Paul sets her down in the kitchen and takes a seat at the small dining table. It's the same seat Edward used to sit in, but Paul looks completely different in the chair than Edward. For one, Paul dwarfs the seat, his gargantuan frame relaxed. There's an easy grace about him as Paul props his feet up on the table top, balanced on the two back legs of the chair with his arms behind his head. She wonders how he does it, but short of sparing him a speculative glance, she doesn't question him. Instead, she makes herself a glass of water, drinks it and sets to work making a late lunch.

Out of the blue, as she's slicing tomatoes to go into the chicken sandwiches she's making, Paul asks, "What's your favourite hobby?"

She doesn't hesitate when she answers. "I like to draw." It surprises her that she is so open about it. Normally, it's like pulling teeth to get information like that out. Her art is hers and hers alone: she hates sharing it. "What about you?"

"Running," Paul replies, "Or… I don't know… building things."

She smiles back at him, appreciating the fact that he's told her. She wonders if he gets her meaning, but she doesn't ask. She rarely ever does.

She sets down four massive sandwiches in front of Paul before she sits down across from him. She digs into her own sandwich and they eat in a companionable silence. Paul's presence is easy – soothing even – and she finds that she can't feel uncomfortable around him. She figures, if they're going to spend the rest of their lives together (and what a thought that was), than it's a good thing it's so easy.

As evening begins to fall, Paul stands up and looks at Bella expectantly. One of his eyebrows are raised when he asks, "Will you be coming to the pack meeting tonight? It concerns you."

She knows this, of course, but she had thought that non-wolves were not welcome to pack meetings. Nevertheless, she nods, drops the tea towel she's been twisting and follows Paul into the hallway. After telling Billy and Charlie that they're headed to La Push, Paul leads the way to her truck and they both climb in. Paul's content to let her drive and she does, reaching Sam and Emily's house in a little under twenty minutes.

Most of the pack is already there. She settles down beside Paul and keeps her head bowed. She doesn't want to see Jacob. It's selfish, but she wants to avoid feeling the guilt of seeing the pain she'll know will be in his face. He's grown up plenty in the last few weeks, but he's still only a boy. Heartbreak for the first time is never easy – she should know – and, well. It's a depressing thing to be witness to.

When Leah and Seth finally arrive, the pack meeting is opened by Sam. He tells all of what Bella's told him and catches Bella up on what's happened so far. It's not a lot, simply just chasing Victoria off their land when they find her on it. The only one who's come close to actually capturing the vampire is Paul, but he was thwarted by Laurent. Laurent was destroyed in that encounter, but Victoria fled and, well, now here they are.

It's more of an information session than anything. Still, Sam is open to suggestions for possible ways of dealing with this threat. There are plenty of suggestions to go around, many focusing around the possibility of setting a trap. Some of them, mostly from the light-hearted Quil and Embry, are so outlandish it has the rest of them laughing. Their joking suggestions eases the tension and soothes frayed ends, but always, the underlying tension remains. It's hard to forget why they are here and quickly, discussion resumes on how to take out Victoria.

By ten o'clock, there has been no solid decision made, but dozens and dozens of suggestions. Sam will be left to mull over them and eventually decide which path is best for his pack. It's a difficult responsibility to carry, being alpha. Bella finds she has a whole new respect for the man because, of course, such a role can never be easy. Such decision making can never be easy. She wonders how he does it.

Back in Forks, Bella and Paul stop at the only McDonalds in town. She orders a chocolate thick shake and Paul, four chocolate sundaes. By the time they reach her house, Paul's devoured all four of them and Bella's only half way through her drink. She's pretty sure that, around Paul, she'll be in a constant state of wonder because, honestly, it's astounding how much food he can pack away in such a small amount of time.

The house is empty when they get inside. A note on the dining table tells Bella that Charlie's gone out to drop Billy off in La Push, so the wolf and his imprint settle down on the couch. She flicks through TV channels until she finds something they are both interested in watching. On the Discovery channel, they are airing a documentary about the lifestyle of wolves in their native habitat and, well, it's interesting to learn about natural born wolves, as opposed to the supernatural human-to-canine shifters Bella has come very up-close-and-personal with.

Paul starts singing as the narrator begins speaking of the wolves' mating habits. She laughs because, honestly, she's been thinking about the song, too.

"You and me baby, we aint nothing but mammals so lets do it like they do on the discovery channel…"

When she looks up at him, smiling, their eyes meet. His eyes are soft, despite the quirky smile on his lips and the laugh dies in her throat. She barely knows Paul, but she knows how she feels about him. She's attracted to the man and, looking into his eyes as she is, it feels like, when he looks at her, he sees his world.

So she kisses him. It's like no kiss she's ever had, soft and sweet and tasting of Paul and ice cream and heat. It makes her heart race and fingers tingle. Her toes curl and eyes close and, in this one eternal second, she soars higher than the clouds, the stars and the sun. She's hit nirvana with a simple kiss and she never wants to stop.

Paul pulls back first. He rests his forehead against hers and she closes her eyes, peaceful. They're both breathless and, as she breathes in, he breathes out. She's breathing his breath and he's breathing hers and it probably has to be the most intimate thing she's ever done.

When she opens her eyes again, she sees his world reflected in his eyes. She's pretty sure, in his gaze, she sees her own world, too.

-!- -#-

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the late update. I struggled with this chapter, but here you go. I hope it was worth the slightly longer-than-usual wait. I'm appreciating all the review-loving you guys are giving me. Thanks so much

T


	7. Chapter 7

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Twilight universe. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Author's Note:** Non-graphic lemon.

**Chapter Seven: Apollo**

When Alice Cullen reappears in Bella's life, she doesn't know what to think. Instead of trying to make sense of the muddle that her thoughts have become, Bella makes for the kitchen. She needs a drink, preferably something stronger than Charlie's fancy schmancy beer. Unfortunately, she has to settle for a can of soda, wishing that Charlie's disapproval of most alcohols didn't extend to vodka. Or rum. Or scotch. Or… you know… something that can make her numb to the pixie that has followed Bella into her kitchen.

"What are you doing here?" Bella asks. Her voice comes out harsher than she expects it to, but Bella doesn't feel guilty. She's not Alice's barbie anymore and she refuses to be played like one. She's not something to be controlled – not any longer, at least.

Bella's unwelcome words seem to effect Alice badly, because the normally composed vampire flinches, looking pained. "I need your help."

Cynically, Bella muses over the fact that this is probably the first time Alice has ever needed to ask help for anything.

"My help?" She repeats. She doesn't bother hiding the incredulity in her tone. She's pretty sure she'd fail – if she'd bothered trying.

Alice nods and wrings her hands. It's a bizarrely human gesture and Bella wonders why the bloodsucker is even bothering. That thought makes her wonder when Paul has begun influencing her vocabulary. Thinking of Paul reminds her that she has a date with him that night; a sort-of-but-not-really attempt to get to know each other. That's what people do, right? Date?

"With what?" Bella asks. Again, she doesn't bother hiding her incredulity. Surely, whatever assistance is required of Bella couldn't have been fulfilled by Rosalie or Esme?

"It's a long story," Alice says on an exhale. "Suffice to say, Edward's gone to the Volturi to kill himself. He thinks you're dead."

There are so many things wrong with that statement, the primary thing being that Edward's gone to the Volturi to kill himself. If he wanted to do that, than he could just light himself on fire.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" She asks, dispassionate. She can't forget those seemingly endless hours spent lost in the woods, courtesy of Edward.

"I need you to come with me to Volterra, to stop him. He won't be convinced unless it's you."

"Um… no," Bella protests, drains the last of her soda and begins to make her way upstairs. Alice follows.

"Please," Alice begs. Her soprano voice is grating. Bizarrely, Bella wonders why she had ever thought it was pretty sounding.

"Alice, you forget that I know Edward. I know how much of a manipulative bastard he is." She begins to flip through her wardrobe, to try and work out what she will wear for her date with Paul. "Edward is testing my loyalties." Her words are so certain. The guilty expression that crosses Alice's face proves it. "To be perfectly honest," Bella continues, no longer looking at Alice, "I have no loyalties to you and yours. Not since September 16th, at the very least." She turns, a bundle of clothes in hand. She lays them across her bed, a pair of dark wash blue jeans with frayed edges and holes in the knees. A shredded tank top is over a tie-dyed t-shirt. Turquoise coloured converse sneakers and a synthetic leather jacket finish off the ensemble. It's not at all fashionable, but she likes it and Paul doesn't give a damn about what she wears. In fact, she's pretty sure Paul would prefer it if she wore nothing at all, but that was neither here nor there.

"So that's it?" Alice asks. Bella doesn't reply because it's blatantly obvious the question is rhetorical. "After all we've done for you, you're just going to let Edward kill himself?"

Bella rolls her eyes as she putters about her room, tidying odd ends as she waits for Alice to depart. She's in no rush to get ready and even if the delay makes her late for Paul, she knows her wolf won't mind. "What have you done, Alice? You sucked me into a world that nearly killed me twice – and that was just the obvious threats on my life. You manipulated and controlled my every action endlessly. Your stupid brother left me in the woods, alone and perfect for some good prey. Prey tell, what, exactly, has your family done for me?" She's surprised by the venom in her own voice. Nevertheless, she's on a roll. "Yes, so you might have saved my life on both accounts. If you hadn't bothered playing me like the little human toy, than I wouldn't have been at risk in the first place. So don't act all high and mighty like that. I don't owe you shit and I'd appreciate it if you left." Her tone is icy and she hasn't raised her voice, but Alice looks scolded like a small child who's been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"Alright," Alice whispers. "I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't… I didn't know you thought that way. I… I'm sorry."

Bella shrugs nonchalantly. She flicks her gaze towards the window and wonders if her message is clear. She wants Alice to leave and, quite frankly, not come back. At least not for a long time.

Alice leaves and Bella makes for the shower. She has a date to get ready for.

An hour later and Paul is sniffing Bella all over. He smells Alice on her skin and he wants to make sure Bella's okay. She lets him, used to his strange wolfish mannerisms. He nuzzles his face into her neck when he's done and she wraps her arms around him, appreciating the heat he radiates.

They leave her home and he lifts her into the passenger seat of his truck. It's massive and the tyres reach her hip, so it's almost impossible for her to get in on her own. She's in though and she buckles herself while Paul gets in himself. They're headed for Port Angeles, but Bella kind of wonders what the restaurant staff – whichever restaurant they're going to – will think of Paul's gargantuan appetite.

They've been sort of seeing each other for about a month now. Aside from the toe curling kisses they've shared, Bella's come to really appreciate Paul's company. He's more than just her boyfriend. He makes her whole in a way she's never known. She's complete and she loves it.

"So why was the leech in your house?" Paul asks. He sounds casual, but she knows he's anything but. The glint in his eyes speaks of murderous rage, directed at Alice.

Bella rolls her eyes. The visit from Alice annoys her as much as it will annoy Paul. She tells the story of their meeting and Paul looks like he's ready to hunt down the pixie and turn her into pixie dust. It's a flash of the angry flame that, according to Emily, has dimmed in the time Bella has been spending with Paul.

"I basically told her to piss off. She left and then I started getting ready for tonight and… yeah, that's about it."

Paul nods jerkily as he attempts to level his breathing. Bella reaches for his hand and entwines their fingers. She traces circles on his hand with the pad of her thumb and he slowly calms. They are silent the rest of the way to Port Angeles, the music on the radio their only company.

After their date, she goes to Paul's house with him. She's eighteen so, despite Charlie's reluctance, he allows her to spend her weekends with her wolf.

Paul kisses her when she crawls into his bed. Once more, she's engulfed in his heat. It coarses through her veins, an inferno of warmth and Paul and want. Her nerves buzz with her desire and she finds herself pressing into him, hips to hips, chest to chest and lips to lips. She wants him. She's pretty sure she's never wanted something so much in her life.

She doesn't know how it's happened, but she's suddenly naked, as is he. She's soaking and wanting and needing, he's rock hard and massive. She doesn't think he'll fit inside her but Christ, she wants him to.

When he's at her entrance, he thrusts inside her with one smooth motion. She cries out because, holy shit, it hurts, but the overwhelming heat of Paul soothes the ache. Soon, he's moving inside her and she's seeing stars because she's pretty sure this is the most amazing feeling…

She doesn't come. Despite the pleasure, it's still tender and she still feels abrated some how. She doesn't know how the pleasure/pain thing works, but there it is. She's nevertheless satisfied and curls into Paul, a content smile on her face and Paul wrapped all around her.

-!- -#-

**Author's Note:** Short, I know. Sorry about that. Also, sorry for the wait. Life's been busy. On the bright side, after this week, there's only ten more school weeks until graduation, plus two weeks for spring break. I'm excited.


	8. Chapter 8

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Eight: Venus**

When the Cullens return to Forks, she isn't very surprised. After Alice's visit, she's actually been expecting it. Paul is all but apaplectic and it takes some distraction of the loving variety to calm him down. This doesn't bother her. After the first couple of times, she's actually come to enjoy her and Paul's new level of intimacy.

They're making out on her father's couch when Edward arrives on her doorstep. Despite feeling like a horny teenager (which isn't a problem with her, because Paul is to die for and she is, in fact, a horny teenager) she's thoroughly enjoying the physical side of her and Paul's relationship. As such, she's rather annoyed at the disruption.

Nevertheless, she gets up from the couch - albeit reluctantly – and makes her way to the door, Paul on her heels. She finds out why he's growling when she opens the front door.

Edward Cullen is standing on the porch, looking ever unchanged at seventeen, unnaturally beautiful – God, he's prettier than she is – and upon catching sight of Paul with his hands all over her – and how it feels so good – utterly murderous. She's tempted to close the door on his face, but before she can, Paul moves her aside, to stand between herself and her vampire ex-boyfriend.

Man, this can get really ugly, really fast.

It does, too.

They're brawling in the front yard when Charlie pulls up in his cruiser. Bella's standing on the porch, watching in morbid fascination as the two supernatural creatures attempt to tear each other apart.

"Jesus Christ! What the fuck do you both think you are doing!" Charlie bellows. She's amazed, because one, she's pretty sure she's never seen Charlie so angry and two, she's pretty sure she's never heard the man swear in her life.

At the same time, Sam and Carlisle appear from different parts of the tree line, both looking disappointed at what they see. Edward's clothes are torn and shredded in places and Paul's are actually non-existent. Paul's bleeding from slight cuts and growling like mad, while Edward's marble skin has been torn in places and hissing like a trapped wildcat. It's like something out of a movie, but she's far too aware that this is anything but. This is her life now and quite frankly, it's rather overwhelming.

Soon, Sam's got Paul phased back to human and wearing a pair of Charlie's fishing shorts, loose on her boyfriend but nevertheless covering up what was not appropriate for public consumption. Her wolf and ex-boyfriend are still glaring at each other like they've mortally offended each other, but then again, their mere presences have probably done that. She stands beside Paul, but Sam is close by because Paul is trembling and he doesn't want to risk her wolf hurting her.

It tells the two Cullens present what she's already told Alice: her loyalties are to the wolves of La Push and no one else. The vampires she had once adored are no longer of great import in her life.

Charlie stands with her, a show of support. He trusts her decision and he knows she's doing what is best for her. She loves her wolf and his pack and would stand by their side in everything they do. If that means turning her back on the family she now holds nothing but apathy for, than so be it.

After affirming that this is exactly what she wants, Carlisle nods, forlorn. "If that is what you want, Isabella, than we will go. Rest assured that we will not bother you again."

Edward, in his shredded clothes and seventeen year old body, moves to protest, but a stern glance (and probably a mental, coven leader order) has him shutting his mouth and following the blonde vampire back into the forest, if reluctantly.

When the two wolves ease their battle ready stances, Bella and Charlie can both relax. In the ensueing silence, it doesn't take long for her to start laughing. She has no idea what's so funny, but she's almost hysterical, she's laughing so hard.

-!- -#-

When Alice has a vision of Victoria forming a newborn army, a meeting of coven and pack is called. The Cullens, namely Edward, insist on Bella being present. Reluctantly, she agrees, which finds her riding wolfback through the forest, to the clearing the Cullens play baseball in.

She hasn't yet seen the rest of her former surrogate family, so she casts a dispassionate glance over all of them before she nuzzles her face in Paul's neck and falls asleep on his back.

When she wakes, Paul's laying her in his bed. He strips off his shorts and curls around her and she smiles, one more nuzzling herself into his neck. She's learned that Paul likes to sleep naked and if she was being completely honest with herself, she kind of loves it.

Scratch that: she kind of loves Paul.

The revelation hits her with the force of a freight train. It leaves her giddy and breathless and she grins, delirious and happy and home.

"What has you grinning like a fool?" Paul asks. He's smiling too, because he loves to see her smile.

Her eyes meet his. As with every other time she meets his gaze, it feels like he sees his world in her eyes. It feels like she sees her own world in his.

"Love you, Pauley."

Paul grins. He looks the happiest she's ever seen him. "Love you too, Swan."

-!- -#-

Author's Note: God, I love you reviewers. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I tried to make it funnyish, so let me know if I succeeded. - T


	9. Chapter 9

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Twilight universe. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Nine:** Aries

They are going to fight. Paul, the pack, the Cullens and others are going to fight, all because Victoria wants her dead. She's simultaneously terrified and inexplicably proud.

The eve of the battle comes. With it comes the fear.

The pack has a bonfire and Bella spends her time staring at the contained flames. They remind her of Victoria's hair, but Bella can't look away. She's mesmorised by the dancing flames, the odd streaks of yellow and blue she glimpses amidst the orange and red.

Paul stays by her side, afraid to let her out of his sight. She's glad, because she needs his presence right now. She's afraid that, after the battle tomorrow, Paul won't come back to her. She's pretty sure if that is the case, she'll fall apart and unlike last time, she won't be able to be put back together.

As she clings to Paul, just as afraid to let him out of her sight as he is to let her out of his, the couple are approached by Jacob.

No words are said. Simply, he kisses her on the forehead, ruffles her hair and walks away. In that small gesture of affection, he tells her not to worry, that everything will be okay, that they will all be fine.

She begins to cry.

Paul lifts her into his arms and takes her to his house. Hers too, she reminds herself. Paul's said as much, weeks ago now.

She doesn't protest when he helps her out of her clothes. He removes his own and he lifts her into the California King. He makes her come and slips inside her and when she comes again, with Paul this time, they both cry.

As they sleep, restlessly, Paul holds her. She clings to him in return, afraid and unwilling to let him go.

Morning comes. She cries again as he pries her arms from around his neck. He looks like he's about to cry, too.

He kisses her, on the forehead, on the nose and on the lips. He kisses each of her cheeks, her neck and her shoulder and her lips again. And then he's gone and she cries until she's sick.

As he disappears through the back door of his home, she whispers for him to come back to her. She wonders if he will. She hopes he does.

Emily finds her on the bathroom floor, curled up on the floor and crying silently. She wonders if the battle has begun, if it's over, if Paul and Jacob and the pack are alright. Emily pulls her to her feet and in through to the kitchen. Kim is there, as is little Claire and so is Leah, because apparently Sam's assigned her imprint duty.

A plate with two slices of toast is set down in front of her, as is a few jars of different types of spread. She doesn't eat it.

"Come on Bella, at least a little bit," Emily pleads, "Paul doesn't need you getting sick or something."

"Too late," she mutters. Leah hears – of course she does – and arches an eyebrow, questioning without saying a word.

Bella shrugs in response and sips at the orange juice Kim has poured. Her stomach threatens to revolt and she realises she hasn't eaten since breakfast the day before. As such, she slowly spreads some peanut butter on a slice of toast and begins to eat it.

When she is done eating, the girls sit and worry for the pack while Claire plays with her barbie dolls. Leah has phased in the living room. They hear intermittent whines and growls and barks from the oversized wolf, but none of them question her.

Hours go by. She wonders if it's normal for battles to last so long. She's not even sure if the battle's even started.

God, sitting here while her wolf is risking his life, primarily for her, makes Bella feel so useless. She's terrified, to the point that it almost makes her sick again.

-!- -#-

The wait is unbearable. He can feel Bella's worry, coming through the imprint bond. He paces and resists the urge to run back to La Push, to his imprint. He wants to tell her everything is okay, make sure she's okay, wants to ask her to marry him… he wants to do so many things, the least of all to rip the ginger Cullen apart. The whingy little bitch is sulking – again – about his beloved Bella. The prissy little leech can't get over the fact that she doesn't give a shit about him. If it was anyone else's imprint, he wouldn't give a fuck, but because she's his, he is very much tempted to kill the frozen fucker.

The tiny Cullen raises up five hands. It's nearly three o'clock in the afternoon and finally – fucking finally – the second ginger bitch and her army of demon spawn are finally here. Finally, he can kill some leech and go back to his imprint.

Jared ignites the fire, phases and they wait. It's silent and Paul is braced to spring at the first leech in sight. Lucky for him – and unlucky for the hag – it's Victoria. He jumps and catches her head in gaping jaws. God, this was too fucking easy.

The scrape of metal being bent out of shape wrenches the air and the battle begins.

It's over in half an hour. Victoria hasn't trained her bloodsuckers well and with the exception of one tiny blonde girl who can hardly be fifteen, the vampires are ash by three thirty.

Seth has a jagged cut down his flank and Embry's paw is broken, but otherwise, everyone was in one piece. Everyone who matters, anyway.

The soldier vampire looks unruffled. His mate, the pixie has used her gift well, because like her mate, she looks unharmed and unruffled.

The coven leader and the mommy-wannabe are frowning at the purple pillars of smoke.

Paul recalls Bella mentioning the two are pacifists and rolls his eyes. Of fucking course they don't like destroying a newborn army designed to aid a lunatic kill their former-surrogate-daughter, risking the towns of Forks, Port Angeles and the La Push reservation in doing so. Fucking typical.

The brute and blondie look satisfied, as if they'd both just been thoroughly fucked. Paul's honestly not surprised that the two get off on violence.

The prissy bitch is no where in sight. He's probably gone off to sulk, the whingy fuck.

When clean up is done, Paul takes off, headed for La Push. He wants to see his mate and his wolf is in complete agreement. His pack is not far behind, yipping, barking and howling in victory. They've won and they are now safe. He can go love his Bella without worrying for her safety, thank fuck.

-!- -#-

He reaches his backyard and phases in the tree line. After scrounging around under bushes and in branches, Paul finds and pulls on a pair of faded red basketball shorts. He jogs across the yard to where Bella is waiting for him at the backdoor, wringing her hands and looking extraordinarily relieved to see him. He lifts his mate into his arms and spins her once, twice and a third time. He's grinning like a fool and she is too, her arms wrapped around his neck as she kisses all of him that she can reach.

"You'refineyou'refineyou'refine," she repeats, over and over again, until the words are etched in both their minds.

"Yeah," he smiles, "I'm fine."

-!- -#-

**Author's Note:** That's it. This is the last chapter. I'll post an epilogue when I've written it. Thanks for all you're lovely reviews and for favouriting, alerting and simply reading!

Lovelovelove you guys

T


	10. Epilogue

**Fire and Ice**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Twilight universe. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Epilogue:** Rhea

She wakes to feather light kisses on her face and neck and smiles contentedly. It's Paul, earthy and woodsy and smelling of home. He is her home just as she is his. He is her happiness and she's pretty sure she can't live without him.

"Time to get up, Swan," he says, once he's noticed that she's awake. "Pack's expecting us at Emily's soon."

She sighs, reluctant to get out of bed, but nonetheless climbs out of her haven and treads towards the bathroom. He watches her leave and she adds an extra sway to her hips, just for him.

When they get to Emily's, it's chaos. This is nothing new and the two fall into the madness, just as easily as breathing. This is where they belong, amidst the boisterous laughter and chatter, playful tustling and general easy-go-lucky atmosphere that has been part of the pack ever since Victoria's defeat.

Bella joins the imprints in the kitchen. It's moderately quiet here, with easy listening music playing from the small sound system tucked into an out of the way corner. Claire's playing under the dining table while Kim and Emily are playing a game of Gin Rummy over the top of it. Leah is watching with vague interest, though most of her attention is focused on the fantasy book she has in her hands.

Bella sits down beside the only female wolf and rests her head wearily on the table, but it's quickly lifted by Paul, who's smiling down at her with love in his eyes.

"Em, you got some sustenance? My girl's wasting away," he says dramatically, but there's a hint of concern in his voice. She kisses his palm in reassurance, because with her sitting and him standing, it's the only place she can reach without real effort.

Emily points to the fridge, stocked full of prepared food. Paul nods, grabs a plate and jams it full of sliced fruits, a bread roll, some chicken and lettuce. He sets it down in front of her and she eats quickly, realising only then how hungry she really is.

Paul combs a hand through her hair. It's longer now, nearly to the swell of her hips, but she's pretty sure she likes it this long. She knows Paul certainly does.

Lunch is soon served and Bella steps back. She watches the pack devour all the pre-prepared foods, once more in wonder. They're like starving animals despite the fact they eat three gargantuan meals a day.

Paul glances up from her between enormous mouthfuls of food, to reassure himself that his mate is safe. Every time, she meets his gaze and every time, it's like that first time, months ago now. When he meets her gaze, it's as if he sees his world. When she meets his, she's pretty sure she sees her own world, too.

In his eyes, she sees his love, for her and for the baby growing inside her. In his eyes, she sees her future, her happiness and both their worlds. And as long as she can keep looking in his eyes and seeing her world, she's pretty sure she can be happy for the rest of her life because Paul is her wolf, her love… her world.

-!- -#-

**Author's Note:** I feel really proud of myself. I finished this story in a month which, for me, is practically unheard of. Thank you all, so much, for reading, reviewing, favouriting and alerting. I can never say how much it means to me to know that what I write is enjoyed and maybe even appreciated.

I'm working on another story, currently with no title and only a prologue. I do have a summary though – here it is:

_It started with a paper cut and ended with an explosion – of fur. The threat to her life was the catalyst and suddenly, her life would never be the same._

As you can guess, it's another New Moon AU. As with 'Fire and Ice' it will be a Bella/Paul story because, as of right now, Paul is my favourite fan fiction character…

Anyway, enough with the rambling. Again, thank you all so much for simply being awesome.

Lovelovelove you guys

T


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